Previously…
– Landon suggested that Lucy stay with him temporarily to keep her safe from her abusive boyfriend.
– Natalie and Sonja’s friendship deepened, and Natalie suggested fixing Sonja up with a man.
– The police conducted a search of the Jimenez home and seemed to find something that connects Travis to Loretta Ragan’s murder.
– Samantha prepared to undergo surgery in order to donate bone marrow to treat TJ’s aplastic anemia.

Tori Gray navigates her way from the elevator to the apartment door. As she arrives in front of the door, all the anxiety in her body seems to rise up through her stomach and into her chest and then her throat, nearly choking her before she expels a heavy sigh.

“Relax. It’s just donuts,” she mutters to herself. She glances down at the cellophane-topped box in her hands, revealing an assortment of colorful donuts. She knows that this is silly — that of course Landon will be happy to see her, and probably even happier to have a donut — but it all feels so weighted now. Like there’s no hiding why she is here, or what is going on between them. It is getting harder and harder to hide behind the veil of friendship, and maybe that’s a good thing, but right now, it feels like a bad thing. Or at least a nerve-racking one.

“Okay, get a grip,” Tori tells herself, and she knocks on his door. A moment later, the door opens wide, and Landon Esco’s smiling face greets her.

“Tori! Hey,” he exclaims with genuine enthusiasm. But before she can even respond, something else hits her: the aroma of cinnamon sugar.

“I brought donuts,” Tori says uncertainly. “I thought maybe–“

“Tori, is that you?” a voice asks, and it is swiftly followed by the appearance of Lucy Champlain, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. A red apron, streaked with flour, mostly covers her t-shirt and jeans.

“Hey, Lucy,” Tori replies cheerfully enough. Of course she knew that her friend might be here, since she has been staying with Landon for her own safety, but this wasn’t the scene she expected to walk into. A platter of piping hot cinnamon rolls, still waiting to be iced, sits on the kitchen peninsula.

“Great timing,” Lucy says. “I just whipped up some cinnamon rolls.”

Tori’s nose sniffs the air. “They smell amazing,” she admits. “I just brought these…” She holds up the donut box like she’s showing her raffle ticket at the wrong event. “They’re not much–“

“Donuts are always a good thing,” Landon announces. He takes the box from her and sets it right down on the peninsula beside the fresh cinnamon rolls. “Looks like everyone had the same idea today. Carb fest.”

“And sugar fest,” Lucy says with a giggle.

“Come on in,” Landon urges Tori, who has been standing somewhat frozen in the entry alcove of the apartment. “Have we heard anything about Samantha and TJ yet?”

“Oh, uh, no. I don’t think they’ve gotten started yet,” Tori says. “What’s the occasion? For the cinnamon rolls, I mean.”

Lucy shrugs and wipes her hands on a dishcloth. “It’s been so long since I had the chance to bake, and I owe Landon a thousand thanks for letting me stay here while my life settles down. Come join us! I’m making some coffee, too.”

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds nice.” Tori nods a little too excitedly and shuts the door behind herself, mentally readjusting her expectations for the day.

In a pre-operating room inside King’s Bay Memorial Hospital, Samantha Fisher lies in a hospital bed. Her street clothes have been exchanged for a white hospital gown, and an IV has been inserted into her right arm. A monitor beeps softly but steadily in the background. Tim Fisher, Diane Bishop, and Tempest Banks are all gathered around Samantha’s bed.

“You’ve got at least half this hospital rooting for you,” Diane tells her daughter with a slightly forced lightness.

Samantha picks up on the attempt at keeping things cheerful and asks, “Only half?”

“Yeah, the other half of ’em can go to hell,” Diane cracks in response.

As she grins, Samantha’s eyes flicker toward Tempest, who is clasping her hands together nervously.

“It’s going to be fine,” Samantha says.

“You don’t need to be reassuring me about that,” Tempest replies, and she swats her hand through the air as if shooing away the bad thoughts.

Tim reaches down and squeezes his daughter’s hand. “It will all be fine. And I’m proud of you, Sam. You’re doing something incredible — for TJ, and for the rest of us.”

“And I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Tempest tells her.

A nurse pokes her head into the room. “We’re just about ready, Ms. Fisher.”

Diane strokes Samantha’s dark, slightly frizzy hair. Tim gives her hand one last squeeze before letting go. And Tempest leans in for a quick kiss upon Sam’s forehead.

“I love you,” Tempest says quietly.

“I love you, too,” Samantha says, as the nurse steps up to her bedside and her loved ones fall back.

“You’ve got this,” Tim calls after his daughter as the nurse takes over the proceedings.

—–

The hospital chapel is quiet, as sunlight filters in through the colored glass on one wall. Travis Fisher slips inside, hands jammed into his pockets, and moves toward one of the pews in the small space — but he pauses when he sees his grandmother in the front row, her head bowed. He draws in a breath, and that is enough to cause Paula to turn.

“Travis. Oh, sweetheart,” she says, surprised but warm.

“Hey, Grandma. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt–“

“You didn’t. I’m glad you’re here.” She pats the pew beside her. “Come. Sit.”

He moves uncertainly toward the front of the tiny chapel and sits beside her.

“I take it you’re here to pray for your sister and brother,” she says.

He gulps, his brain flooded with thoughts of the police raiding the Jimenez home and whatever it was they found, or think they found. Then he is hit by a sting of guilt for being more worried about himself than his siblings.

“I thought it was worth a try,” he says with a shrug. “I don’t really pray much — I know you’d love if we all went to church–“

“God is ready when you need him,” she says softly. “You know, it’s been almost a decade exactly since we lost your grandfather.“

He nods glumly. “November will be ten years. That’s wild.”

Paula sucks in a breath, as if she is trying to ward off the overwhelming emotions that come with that reality. “I like to talk to him whenever I can. Especially at times like this. To ask him to look out for all of us.”

“I bet he’s keeping busy, then. We could use all the help we can get.”

Paula lays her hand gently over his. “That’s why we pray. Even when it feels like no one is listening.”

Travis stares into the flickering votive candles at the front of the room and recognizes that they are actually battery-operated, like the ones on the tables at Bill’s on the Pier.

If someone up there is really listening, he thinks, fearful that his grandmother can somehow hear his thoughts, now would be a good time to prove it.

Then he bows his head, the weight still heavy, but softened ever so slightly by his grandmother’s faith.

—–

In the hospital cafeteria, Natalie Bishop sits across from Sonja Kahele. Two biodegradable coffee cups with prints of leaves on them rest on the table. Sonja looks weary but grateful for the break; Natalie stirs some Stevia into her coffee.

“This is all going to work out,” Natalie says. “The hard part is over. You found a donor.”

“We’re so thankful that Samantha agreed to do this for TJ,” Sonja says.

Natalie nods. “Samantha’s a good kid. Not even a kid anymore, I guess. But she’s a good person. Of course she wants to help her brother.”

Sonja takes a contemplative sip of the hot coffee. “I wish we could fast-forward and know that it’s all going to be okay. To see TJ happy and healthy again…”

“You will,” Natalie says firmly. “I know it.”

“Thanks for being so supportive, too,” Sonja says. “I don’t have many — or any — friends here. I’m lucky enough that Tim and Claire are letting TJ and I stay at the house with them. But to have an actual friend…”

Natalie winces and immediately tries to conceal it. Sonja’s gratitude almost feels like a challenge, like she is trying to coax Natalie into revealing that she is the one who set this entire mess with Loretta in motion. But, on a logical level, she knows that Sonja has no idea, that Loretta is dead and gone. And now maybe Natalie can make up for it in some cosmic way by helping Sonja.

“You know how I said I had a guy in mind for you?” she asks.

Sonja looks at her with disbelief. “Do you really?”

“I mean, once things with TJ settle down — and they will — it’s gonna be time for you to get back out there and live a little,” Natalie says. “I think I have the perfect guy.”

Sonja laughs. “I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this. But I’m intrigued. Who is it?”

“Bree‘s dad. Conrad.”

“Your ex-husband?” Sonja covers her mouth in shock. “Wouldn’t that be weird for you?”

“No way. We’ve been divorced for, like, over fifteen years. He’s a good guy. Never late with the child support. Oh, and did I mention? He’s loaded.”

“You’re crazy,” Sonja says, snickering uncertainly. “Your ex-husband? And me?”

“He’s good people, you’re good people,” Natalie says. “It makes sense. So when you’re ready… I’ll get the two of you in the same place and see if you can hit it off.”

Sonja stares down into her coffee. “I can hardly think about having a life of my own right now.”

“But TJ is going to be okay. And this is going to be a thing of the past. When that happens — it’s time to live your life, Sonja.”

It takes a moment, but Sonja agrees, “You’re right. And what the hell? No harm in seeing if there’s something there.”

“That’s the spirit,” Natalie says, as she lifts her coffee cup in an impromptu toast. “Before you know it, TJ will be good as new, and then Sonja can get her groove back.”

“Amen to that,” Sonja says as she raises her own cup.

—–

Tori sits perched on the edge of a cushion on Landon’s beat-up but comfortable sofa, nibbling on one of the cinnamon rolls that Lucy made.

“Okay, these are pretty great,” she admits when she finishes chewing. “Well done, Lucy.”

Lucy, who is seated at the other end of the couch, smiles. “It’s so fun you stopped by, Tori.”

“Well, I kept meaning to catch up with Landon,” Tori says. She rotates toward Landon, who is sprawled on the large bean bag chair in the corner. “You’re at my house every day working with my mom, but I’m always at the office when you’re there.”

Feeling self-conscious, she quickly says to Lucy, “And I’ve been wanting to catch up with you, too. Everything is okay since you’ve been here?”

“Bryce is respecting the restraining order,” Lucy responds. “I’m almost starting to feel normal again.”

Tori relaxes with a genuine smile. “That’s great. All we want is for you to be okay.”

“And I wouldn’t be okay if not for you two,” Lucy says.

Landon jumps up from the bean bag. “Anyone need more coffee?”

The two women decline, and Landon strolls toward the small kitchen. Lucy scoots closer to Tori on the couch.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you were coming by,” Lucy whispers. “I can go out if you want, like, alone time.”

“No, you’re fine,” Tori assures her. “Totally fine. I just… thought I’d drop in. It’s not a big deal.”

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “But you guys do need some alone time.”

“We could use that,” Tori whispers back. “But it’s not your responsibility.”

“Well, just let me know how I can help. I’m rooting for you two lovebirds.” She reaches over and pats Tori’s thigh. “And I hope you know how grateful I am to you. So let me repay the favor.”

“Thanks, Lucy,” Tori says, as Landon returns with a fresh cup of coffee. The conversation resumes, and Tori finds herself staring at him, wondering if they will ever have a chance to move beyond the friendship that they’ve settled into.

—–

The waiting area is tense as Tim and Diane sit across from one another in thinly upholstered plastic chairs. Nearby, Tempest thumbs through a social media feed on her phone, and Rosie flips distractedly through a magazine. The weight of Samantha’s procedure presses down on all of them.

A ding from the elevator bay precedes the return of Travis and Paula. Calm but resolute, Paula rests a hand at his elbow as if guiding him back into the fold.

“There you are,” Tim says.

“We took a few minutes to pray for Samantha and TJ,” Paula explains.

Rosie stands to welcome her husband back. “That’s good.”

“Makes me feel like I’m doing something to help this along,” he says.

A set of double doors swing open, and Claire emerges in her light-blue scrubs.

“Do you have any news yet?” Diane asks, an edge of impatience to her words.

Claire sighs. “No. They’re performing the procedure on Samantha now. She’s under anesthesia and in the O.R.”

Another ding comes from the elevator bay, though it is quickly swallowed up by the frantic ringing of the phone at the nurses’ station. Claire reflexively turns to see if she needs to grab the phone, but another nurse swoops in and answers it. When Claire swivels back toward the family, she sees the two individuals approaching from the elevators and freezes.

Her reaction causes the others to look, and soon they are all eyeing the pair of uniformed police officers.

“Ouchi. Haynes. What are you doing here?” Rosie asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“We have a warrant,” Haynes announces.

Paula clasps her hands together. “A warrant?”

“Travis Fisher,” Officer Ouchi says, producing a pair of handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Loretta Ragan.”

The words hit the family like a thunderclap.

“What?!” Claire exclaims in shock. “This has to be a mistake.”

Tim stares at Travis in confusion. “Son,” he says. “This can’t be right–“

Travis opens his mouth to respond, but Rosie instinctively shushes him before he can produce any sound.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Haynes says dryly. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

Travis submits, allowing his hands to be cuffed behind his back. A crowd of onlookers has formed around the nurses’ station, watching the spectacle.

“I’m calling Conrad,” Rosie says. “We’ll meet you down at the station.”

“Travis,” Claire gasps, as if the floor is falling out from beneath her. “This is all going to be okay.”

With his head bowed, Travis allows the officers to lead him toward the elevators.

“What’s this all about?” Tim asks Rosie.

She sets her jaw and watches her husband be led away.

“I don’t know what they think they have,” Rosie says, “but I’m gonna find out.”

END OF EPISODE 1270

Was Travis really the one to end Loretta’s life?
Will Lucy be an obstacle for Tori and Landon?
Could Sonja and Conrad be a love match?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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